Our Gang From Hell
by catoroni-and-macNcheese1
Summary: Hey it's Cat, Mac, & Socy! Socy's original Outsiders story semi-related to ours. Follow our own charaters and the gang in their crazy lives! Hope you enjoy! Please R&R! We do not own the Outsiders, only our own character! Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1- I Hate My Life

**The Outsiders: Our Gang From Hell**

**By: Cat, Mac, and Socy**

Author's Note:

It's what you've been waiting for a long time. SOCY'S STORY! We're super excited to post Rachel's one of a kind stories on the account. She uses the same characters and certain events as us, but the stories will not go together. We hope you all enjoy!

Frying Pans & Chocolate Cake,

Cat, Mac, & Socy 3

Rachel's POV

Saying that my day was horrible is a vast understatement...

Okay so here's the deal you read the story and I'll narrate it. As you can tell I'm not exactly in a good mood. I'm pretty pissed right now so don't bug me and let me tell the story. K?

It all started when my mother gave birth to me and died. My father spoils me to death because I'm all he has left of my mom. I look exactly like her. Same dirty blonde hair, same dark gold eyes at times, same shape, same straight white teeth that look like I have been wearing braces for years.(Which I have.)

I was 14 when my father and I moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma, my life has been miserable since then. My dad got married to this women with a ton of money and my dad barely pays attention to what I do. He got married 5 months ago and already has the b**** pregnant. Oh sorry. You don't like that word? Well, oh well she is one. She doesn't want any child except her own. She tells me I'm useless and horrible. She beats me everyday and threatens my dad that if he doesn't beat me too she's gonna leave. Now you why I called her that name.

I hate her with all that I have in me. My dad that realized that without me my mom would still be alive. He started to hate me too. I would run straight to my room in fear of being beat to death. When my "parents" got really out of hand I would run to the lot. The lot is a huge empty parking lot and as far as I know there is no one who comes here that would harm me. Even though most of the lot is occupied by greasers I try to stay in my corner and don't bother them. I'm not that stupid to go over there. Over these past three months alone I've gotten good at hiding emotions and perfecting my death glare. It helps the socs not bother me as well as the other greasers.

When no one is there I sometimes fall asleep in the little bunker I made when I was beaten one day in the back of the lot. It's just a little shelter made out of scrap metal with a blanket, pillow, water, and some stale food. Well, it's better than being beaten by your own "parents".

I always carry around a few pocket knives. Not some stolen switchblade, but a few large pocket knives. Mostly I hide one in my black jean's pocket, two in both my army boots, and one I keep in my hand at all times. Once I got jumped by a few greasers and they tried to cut my hair. Too bad for them they didn't know who they were dealing with. I think we all know who won. It was fun.

I look tough and tuff. I always wear black jeans, black army boots, a black T-shirt, and a grey zip-up sweatshirt. As you can probably tell I absolutely love black. Though if you're one of those people and haven't figured it out yet, let me make this easy for you people to understand, YOU'RE AN IDIOT! There now that that's out of my system let me continue describing myself. As I said before I have dirty blonde hair, dark gold eyes, straight white teeth, and a curvy figure. I have no need for glasses because my eyesight is spot on.(I can see better than most people I know) I'm stronger than most men and faster than most people.(Don't mean to brag, but it's true.) I'd won so many track meets at my old school that my shelves are full of trophies. I've been working since I moved here because my dad stopped feeding me. I had to fend for myself. Sometimes when my "parents" beat me they go a little overboard. I mean really overboard. Last month I got hit with a wooden plank. I stayed in the bunker for a week after that. I have one more year until I can get out of this hellhole and away from them! Oh I'm sorry I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start a week after my dad married that b****(again with that word) and came home five months later.(Worst day of my life!) Who leaves their 16 year old child alone for five months! Grrrrr! STUPID PARENTS!


	2. Chapter 2- Cat & Mac

Rachel's POV

When my dad came home from work the other day he was fuming. This is highly abnormal that he was this mad! He's usually nice, but when he saw me he ran over and hit me hard in the back of the head with a bottle. As it shattered on me I fell to the floor. Then he picked me up and threw me against the wall. He banged my head against the wall a few times and then started screaming in my face that it was all my fault that my mom died. "What do I have anything to do with mom dying?!" I yelled back. "Everything! When you were born she died! You killed your mother!" he screamed. Tears started streaming down my face. I was livid. How dare he talk to me that way! "I DID NOT! I was only a baby. I you really loved my mom you wouldn't be doing this!" He stepped back and I saw the look of shock on his face. He knew I was right. Then when I thought he finally had come to his senses slapped me across the face and walked away. My head was spinning and I slid down the wall onto the floor. When I placed a shaky on the back of my head I winced. That hurt! When I pulled my hand back I saw that it was stained with blood. I tried to stand up but I instantly became dizzy. "Ugh!" I groaned as I fell on my face. After trying to stand up multiple times, I decided I should crawl to the bathroom. I was losing a lot of blood...and fast! When I finally got down the hallway and into the bathroom there was blood dripping down my neck and back. I grabbed a paper towel to blotch the stream of blood. When I washed the sticky blood off my neck and back it revealed a large shard of glass embedded in my neck and a huge gash in my head. "OWWWW!" I had to use all my strength not to pass out.

It took the tweezers out of the cabinet to pull the large shard of glass out so it wouldn't get infected. "OWWWW!" I yelled in pain again. It REALLY hurt! When I finished with that I wrapped it in gauzes and started on my head. It was worse than I thought. It was really deep with more cuts all around. I pulled the glass out, cleaned, and wrapped it in bandages. When you get beaten everyday you learn to be a good self medic. In the process of it all I got a good portion of screaming done. I grabbed some pain medication and a bottle of water then ran out the door.

I ran for two blocks until I finally came to the lot. I ran over to my bunker. I just wanted a bigger spot. Of course I was stupid enough to go explore the rest of the lot. As I was walking by an old car I heard someone and hid in a nearby bush. This greaser girl came out. (I was informed by my "parents" about all this Soc/Greaser stuff.) I pulled out my knife and noticed two other greasers step out behind her. The girl was tall with light brown hair, the boy was medium height with reddish brown hair, and the other girl was tall and had jet black hair with hazel eyes. They looked both tuff and tough. They all had on leather jackets and from the looks of those cuts on the first girls face, they had been in some serious fights. The girl walked over to where I was hiding(I'm not a very good hider.) and the other girl followed with... a frying pan?! The girl with the cuts walked up right in front of me and noticed the knife and stopped.

"Drop the knife please." she said

"No." I replied. The rest of the conversation kind of went like this.

"Drop. The. Knife."

"No!"

"I said give me the damn knife."

"NO!"

"Cat a little help here?!"

The other girl "Cat" walked up to me with the frying pan and says, "Hand it over."

And of course I was stupid and said, "No."

"Maybe you didn't hear me right. I said, Give. Me. The. Knife."

"No." Man they are persistent.

"Fine then I'll take it. I don't want you hurting them." She said as she gestured to the other two people. Then she ran at me with the frying pan. I finally figured out why she had the frying pan instead of a knife. It hurts when you get hit with it.

I wasn't prepared for her first swing so my left wrist got crushed with the blow. "S***! That hurts!" I ducked her second swing and she missed my already bleeding head by millimeters on the next. Once again back to her persistent ways. Then she grabbed my left arm and twisted it behind my back. I managed to get out of the death grip hold she had on me but lost my knife in the process. I pull one of my extra knives out of my boot and flip it open. I swung the knife at her but she dodged it and ripped it out of my grip. She threw it next to my other knife. So of course being the moron that I am, I pulled out the knife in my pocket flipped it open and threw it at her. Of course she ducks and runs at me I grabbed my last knife and threw that at her. It impaled itself in her frying pan hand. "Owwwwww!" She howled.

Crap she's pissed. Now would be a good time to run or hide or do something but I was frozen with fear. An angry person that is two times the size of you barreling at you like an angry bull. UT OH.

She grabbed my wrist again and this time I couldn't get out of the hold. then she grabbed my neck and I fell to my knees with the blinding pain. "Hey Mac look I caught her."

Then the boy yells, " Yay now we can tie her up and interrogate her while eating cake!"

"Shut up Ponyboy. Nothing you say makes sense!" said Cat.

What is with it and these people and their names! Then Mac (The Nice One) walks over and yells at Cat, "You IDIOT can't you see that she is hurt?!"

"Yay. All the more reason to kill her." said Cat

"WHAT?!" I yelled. I reached up to touch my bandages and my hand came away red with blood. '"Owww." I moaned before I passed out. The last thing I remembered was Mac saying "CRAP!"


	3. Chapter 3-Knives,Knives,and More Knives

Mac's POV

Once we managed to drag her home and to sneak her past Soda and Darry. We put her in me and Pony's room. "What should we do?!" asked Pony. "You just go outside and distract Darry and Soda. We'll figure out the rest." I replied. "Why?!" whined Pony. "Puny... I MEAN PONY! Blarf! Just go!" He glared at me and walked out. "Nice one Cat." I said. "Ow!" she yelped. "What's the... OH CRAP!" She still had the knife in her hand. I walked over and stood next to her pulling up a chair. "Cat you sit." I told her. She sat down and gave me her hand. I pulled out the knife and threw it on the ground with the other three. After Like half an hour of bandaging her hand while her screaming at me (not saying what) we walked over to the girl. I looked at her wounds and Cat rebandaged them. As I was sitting there wondering why she looked so familiar I saw Cat doing something out of the corner of my eye. "Cat! Stop going through her pockets!" I said. "Mac. Don't be an idiot and help me find all her knives. When she wakes up she might go crazy again!" she replied like it was obvious. I knew I should help her. You know just in case she did wake up and went crazy. Sure enough we found two in her one boot. Adding these up with the ones she used in the fight, that makes a scary total of six knives! Geez!

We sat there talking about yesterday. After we just managed to save Soda and not DIE! Socy had come over covered in blood. She had killed her brother Michael. Then we tried to help her but she went straight to Dally and he sent her off to God knows where! When I screamed in his face a held a knife next to his throat he finally spilled that she went to Jay Mountain with Johnny. I was gonna leave tonight when everyone was asleep, but now I was probably gonna stay for another night and tell Cat so we could go together. We'd have better odds. I looked at her again and then realized the entire time she reminded me of Socy! It was kind of hard to see out of my cut eye and was probably why I hadn't noticed before. "Hey Cat. Do you..." I started then Cat turned to me looking upset and said "We need to find her." "I know." I replied. Then the girl started to stir. "Quick! Let's check for more knives!" said Cat. She started checking her jacket again. "Cat!" I complained. But then I said that I saw a glare off of something by her head. I walked over and pulled out TWO MORE POCKET KNIVES out of her braid. "Cat." I said to get her attention. She looked over and I held up the two knives I found. "Wow. And I thought we had a weapon obsession." she said shocked. "Hey! What do you mean by weapon obsession?!" I asked defensively. "Mac admit it. We carry around frying pans and butterfly knife swiss armies. I think we have an..." she started. Then she pulled out another knife from her jacket. "Where was that one?!" I asked. "There was a bump on the inside of her jacket and realized it was a secret sealed pocket! Who does that?!" Then she sat up. We backed away slowly just to be on the safe side. She then started patting herself down everywhere looking for a knife! Cat and I looked at each other like "Who the hell is she?!". Then when she got to her jeans she pulled a pocket knife out of her back pocket. Why did we not look there?! That's like the easiest place to store a knife! She ran at Catrina AGAIN!(Geez! Bad day for Cat!) I stepped in this time and grabbed the blade before she could knife Cat again! I pushed her onto the bed and she hit her head on the bed frame and passed out again! Great. Nice going me!


End file.
